Chasm
by SoDunne
Summary: To deal with her emotions over Al's suicide, Tris drinks. She sat by the Chasm where he jumped. Eric stops just because he's not busy. In a turn of events, Eric is there for her.


**A/N: hello there! This is just a little somethin-somethin I've had sitting in my docs for forever. It's one of my longer one shots.**

 **And it's all Eris sooooo.**

 **There are mentions of suicide and alcohol and such. So if that triggers you or you aren't comfortable with it, then this is a heads up.**

 *** I don't own anything or any characters from the Divergent movies/books. I'd be rich. lol**

* * *

Tris gingerly dragged her feet and chugged from a wine bottle as she took a seat on the bridge over the chasm, the same place Al had jumped from a few days before. She shook her head, he contempt for the coward had began to bubble over. He had aided the attempt on her life, and it made her sick to even think about him. He had been a friend at one time, and she went to bat for him when Eric had picked on him. She knew, from just watching him head toward the target, he would have flinched and he would have been out in the streets - factionless - before he was even Dauntless. She snorted, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. It was funny; you do the best you can, for you, only to find out that people you think are friends can be much less than you hope they are.

Tris swung her feet, listening to the crashing of the water below her and observing the different jagged and smooth edges that created the walls of the huge crater. As she sat there, falling deeper and deeper into drunken oblivion, she realized something, even through the fogginess of being intoxicated. She felt like a chasm sometimes, two sided, but she could never just stand in the middle. She was conflicted between what she was and what she wanted to be; Selfless and Brave.

She wondered what it felt like to stand at the edge, look down, and jump. The coward's way out, she felt. She however, refused to experience it. She chose to prove everyone who doubted her, wrong. She wasn't powerless. She was Tris…

Currently drunk, but still Tris. Coping, but still Tris.

"You're not gonna jump, are you? Because I can't give that stupid speech anymore."

Tris looked up - a little too fast, she nearly dropped her wine and broke her own neck - finding that she hadn't been hearing things. Eric stood to her left, leaning against the stone entry way; his signature smirk never left his face. All she did was look away, not really wanting to talk to anyone, much less him. She heard his heavy boots hit the metal grates of the bridge. He stalked toward her, standing over her. "What?" She snapped.

"Nothing." He shrugged, "I just want to know why you're sitting here." He crossed his arms, expecting an answer. And Tris knew better than to deny him one.

"I dunno." She slurred, hands gesturing.

He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, looking thoughtful. He wasn't quick with a reply, which was rare from what she's seen. Eric had a way with words. You can take the boy out of Erudite... Tris smiled, raising her knee to her chest and resting her chin on it. Eric rubbed his chin before sitting next to her. "The stiff drinks..." Tris swung at him, nearly toppling over the edge. "The stiff is drunk." He added, grabbing her quickly. He laughed as she clutched the wine bottle to her chest. He still took it away.

"What're you doing?" Tris quickly asked, leaning over to grab the bottle back.

He shrugged, dropping the bottle over the edge, simultaneously keeping her from going after it. She pouted. "Hey! That wasn't cheap!"

He shrugged leaning back on his hands. "Sue me."

"You- y- you're an asshole!" She meant to yell, but her voice died out and her hand landed lamely against his chest.

"I hear that a lot." He shrugged. He was relaxed, not really caring that he and Tris were far from friends. They sat there in silence, both trying to find words. Tris was still upset about the alcohol.

"You were impressive at the capture the flag..." He complimented, and Tris did a double take before thanking him, "See, I can be nice."

Tris snorted, "When you want something." He nudged her half heartedly, smiling at her. She nearly fell over, her hands gripping the grates of the bridge to stay up. She couldn't tell if it was genuine, but she was too caught up in the playful nudge and too drunk to care at that point. She probably wouldn't remember most of the night anyway. And that was the point.

"You're not blaming yourself, are you? Because if you did, that would be stupid.." He swung his feet, rubble from the bottom of his boots made clouds as he beat his feet together. He wasn't sure why he was still sitting with her. But he concluded that if she was a grabby, or sad, crying drunk, then he'd have to leave and wouldn't be responsible for what happened. But then again, that was just something he was saying. He'd just complain really loudly.

Tris looked at him skeptically, but with a curiosity he'd always piqued. Whether it be his looks or his demeanor, he had a way of drawing her in. In that moment, him looking down and actually looking like a normal person, she felt most intrigued. How'd he know she had been blaming himself. Or maybe it was all the wine in her system making her hallucinate their whole encounter. "How'd you know that?"

"Know what?" He looked up at her, blues meeting blues. Then he nodded, "Because I've felt it."

"What?" Tris asked, openly perplexed.

"I don't know why I'm telling you, hell, you probably won't even remember that I'm telling you this, but I've experienced something similar." He sighed, leaning back on his hands. He looked away from her, "When Four and I were initiates, there was this trainer, Amar. Four got attached, obviously. Long story short, he jumped from up here, and ended up and the end of the river in the Pit. I was the last person to see him, and we didn't have a pleasant conversation." He sat back up, crossing his arms, "Four blamed me and we've hated each other since. Of course there were other factors."

Tris felt like she was seeing him for the first time, even through the fog her mind was sorting through. It all clicked in her head, he pushed people away with his cruelty and harshness so he never had to watch anyone else he cared about get hurt. "Did you forgive yourself?"

He shook his head, "No." He looked at her, and quickly added, "But you have nothing to forgive. Al tried to kill you."

"How'd you know that?" Tris asked, her eyes widened. For the first time, she was paying attention to how she sounded; childlike and slurred.

"Where do you think Peter got that bruise from? I saw the footage after Four brought it to me complaining about my changes to initiate training. But that's beside the point." He waved his hand, "He made the choice to help mug you and try to toss you over that edge," he pointed to the edge of the chasm, "You chose not to trust him ever again and he tossed himself over the edge because he couldn't handle everyone knowing that he was a weak piece of shit."

"Well when you put it like that..."

"There's no other way to put it." Eric commented, "Unlike that speech says, Al wasn't brave for jumping into the unknown, he was a coward who doesn't deserve your pity." He got up, holding out a hand for her to take. As he helped her up, she tripped on the back of her heel, falling into him and sending him back against the railing of the other side of the bridge.

"Sorry." Tris blushed, her hands on his chest. She tried to walk but she couldn't get her legs underneath her. She looked like a newborn deer, stumbling on her legs like they were new.

Eric laughed, his head fell back and it was the first time she'd seen him carefree. Too bad it was at her. She continued to stumble ahead, but she she got too close to the edge he grabbed her again. "Oookaaaay, you're straight slaaaapped, aren't you?" He chuckled, despite the situation. "How much have you had to drink?"

"How many hours has it been-" she paused, looking up at him, "wait, 3 bottles of whatever that was."

"Oh, God." Eric drawled, pinching the bridge of his nose and holding her by waist at the same time.

Something told him she wasn't really a drinker or a partier. But Al's death - the stress of the past couple days - had driven her to drinking. She just got a head start on stress drinking in Dauntless unfortunately.

"Okay," Eric sighed, "let's go."

"Sounds like a plan, Stan," she drawled, stumbling next to him. "I don't know any Stans, it's just something Caleb used to say.. Caleb is my brother - "

Eric rolled his eyes, "Tris, stop talking." He sighed, rubbing his temples, contemplating if whether or not he wanted to throw her into the chasm himself. But he liked her enough to hold it together. She had been through enough. He may have been really bad with feelings or whatever, but contrary to what people thought, he wasn't always pushing initiates to hold their emotions back. She had been attacked by her friend and then that same friend killed himself. He - and the other leaders - would have been worried if she didn't have a little breakdown of some sort.

He walked slowly, ignoring the looks he was getting from other Dauntless members and the way they all seemed to be looking at him like he was about to do something less than honorable to the completely wasted Tris. "And what the fuck are you looking at?" He snapped, his patience gone by the time they reached the elevator, he'd dealt with it the entire walk to the pire. A couple of girls had been staring at him like they were disgusted.

He was being nice, and then were looking at him like he was a pig. He was taking her to his place to keep her from getting in trouble with Four and he was the bad guy. Typical.

"Yeah!" Tris broke in, advancing toward them like she was going to fight them. Her already short fuse was shorter when she wasn't sober. Eric would have been amused had he not been fuming over the assumptions that he was some sort a monster. Something about people thinking he'd hurt Tris bothered him more than he'd have liked. He grabbed her before she could snatch a girl by her hair.

The two girls scampered away, "Cowards!" Tris hollered after them.

"Are you trying to wake the entire faction?" Eric muttered, smirking at her as she pouted. The elevator opened and he almost had to carry her into the lift. He leaned over and pressed the button to his floor.

She only crossed her arms and pouted, lip jutting out. He smirked, and pressed his finger to her lip, flicking downward. Tris attempted to bite him, but nearly fell over from the sickness the elevator ride was causing.

Eric caught her, hoping the nauseated look on her face wasn't an indication that she was going to throw up on him. "I swear to god, if you puke on me, I'm gonna make you run around this entire compound."

Tris held her breath, hoping that would help.

The lift stopped harshly and she grabbed him to steady herself. Eric rolled his eyes, "Okay, enough of this." He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder causing her to squeal. "That way if you puke-"

"I just might." Tris answered.

He briskly walked to his apartment, patting his pockets for his keys. Tris was giggling like an idiot, patting his butt like she was playing on drums.

"Your butt is firm-" She said, pocking his buttcheek like it was some sort of science project.

Eric was trying really hard to keep from snapping but she was also amusing him. He sighed. "I squat." He joked, to keep his own mood from plummeting any further.

"I gotta -" she hiccuped and covered her mouth, "I gotta start that." She buried before going limp. He didn't mind, he'd rather her go to sleep and flailing on his shoulder.

He stopped in front of his door and stuck the key in the door, he checked for any mail in the mailbox, and like he expected, paperwork. He left it there and walked into his apartment. He walked around in the dark to spare Tris's eyes. "Welcome to my humble abode."

She scoffed. "Humble.."

Drunk Tris had no filter.

"I could drop you right now." Eric warned. He walked her to the back of his apartment, climbing three steps up into the kitchen. Eric tossed his keys onto the counter. She looked around and everything was upside down because she was too tired to lift her head. It was really dark in the hallway that led to his bed room.

He set her on his bed and she laid on her back. He went to the bathroom to the left of the room, by his closet. She heard him start the shower and assumed he was getting in. But Eric came back. He took her by the hands and sat her up. "Go get in. I put a towel on the rack. It's white.."

"Too much effort." Tris whined, rubbing her temples.

"It'll make you feel better." He answered.

Tris sighed normally, she wouldn't dare do what she was about to do, but she wasn't thinking straight. She lifted up her arms.

Eric watched her wearily. But she held her arms up. He chuckled and huffed nervously. But he hid it well. Grabbing the hem of her shirt, he pulled it over her head, leaving her in her bra. He looked at her as he dropped the shirt on the floor. But she said nothing and only looked at him. He cleared his throat and tucked his fingers in the waist of her leather pants. She shimmied to help him. When they were to her thighs, he moved back. She giggled as he grabbed the bottom of her pant legs, pulling her pants free.

Eric rolled his eyes and helped her up. She slowly got up. She unclasped her bra and dropped it on the floor casually. He wondered if she'd drank all the liquor at the bar counter. Because if she were sober, she'd have showered in her clothes just because he was there. She didn't even close the door.

He started to unlace his boots, pulling them off one by one. He paused when he heard her humming a tune. He looked up and saw the fog escaping the bathroom.

Eric stood, stretching, wondering and scolding himself for getting involved in her grieving process. It wasn't like he could tell her to leave now and he sure as hell wasn't leaving his own apartment.

She didn't need to be alone.

He walked over to his dresser. He grabbed a pair of boxers, a black tank top. Normally, that's what he walked around in in his apartment, but he changed his mind and told himself that pants would be a good idea.

He grabbed the pajama pants his mother secretly sent him. They were blue flannel for cold nights she said, but he wore them when he missed her. He'd never admit that though. It was against the rules. Besides, thinking about home made him sad. There was always a feeling of guilt attached to that memory too.

He remembered that she needed something to wear. He looked for the smallest t-shirt he had. It was black and had the dauntless symbol on it. It was the first shirt he bought in the pit when he joined Dauntless. He was way thinner then. It would still be big on Tris though, too long. Which was a good thing.

Eric quickly put it in the bathroom.

He went to take a shower in the bathroom down the hall. One of the many perks of being a leader - he got two bedrooms and two bathrooms. Showered and freshly dressed, he went back to his room, a bottle of water and ibuprofen.

Tris was sitting on his bed with her legs tucked underneath herself.. She was playing with her hands and looked like she was exhausted.

He had expected to walk back into his room and hear her in the bathroom barfing up an organ. But she wasn't, thankfully.

"You take the bed, I'm going to take the couch." He spoke softly, handing her a bottle of water and the pill bottle.

"Thank you." She chugged most of the water.

"Take two of those in the morning. I'd give them to you tomorrow, but I have to take care of some things in the morning. There's no training tomorrow."

Tris nodded slowly, he had to do a report on Al's death and inform his parents. Al hadn't been a full fledged member yet, which meant they had to let his parents know he had died - and how.

"I'll be in the living room." He said, tuning on his heel. She didn't fight him on the sleeping like he expected. He thought her Abnegation upbringing would keep her from accepting that he'd let her take his bed for the night. But he was glad she didn't, it would have been a redundant argument.

She watched him leave, sitting in the spot she was. Her mind seemed to get clearer and clearer since her shower and the bottle of water he brought for her.

Tris must've sat there for hours, fighting back tears.

She wondered why he was being so nice to her. She didn't want his pity. But it was nice to not be around the rest of her friends as bad as that sounded to her.

She couldn't sleep.

She bit the inside of her cheek. She threw off his covers and placed her feet on the wooden floors. Her feet padded quietly as she felt around in the dark. She followed the sound and glow of his TV.

She walked passed the kitchen, quietly stepping down the three steps into the limbo between the living room where he was and the rest of the apartment. She sighed and stepped into the living room she didn't want to be in his room by herself...she wanted to be held.

Tris held her breath as she stood beside the couch.

"You're still awake..." He said, not a question, more of a thought he said out loud.

She had to still been drunk. It was the only explanation for what she did next.

Tris peeled back his thick blanket and laid next to him - taking up the space on the wide, leather couch.

Eric stiffened, both of his arms out. "What are you-" He paused when she wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him.

He felt her tears soaking through his shirt. He didn't know what to do for a minute.

Soon she was sobbing, shaking because she was crying so hard. Eric wrapped his arms around her, shifting so she was laying mostly on him. He didn't know was possessed him to do it, but he rubbed his fingers on her scalp in soothing circles and ran his other hand along her back.

"I- I'm s-sor-" Tris started, but she was crying too hard, it was difficult to catch a breath.

He shushed her, holding her tight. He was reacting on instinct. "It's going to be okay."

"M- my fault." She sobbed.

"No it's not." He insisted gently. "None of this is your fault. You didn't ask to be attacked and you didn't push Al into the chasm."

She needed to hear that. She took deep breaths and got herself to stop crying. She muttered a thank you, and fell asleep.

Eric shook his head, she had cried herself out. He felt weird. Like he was unworthy of seeing her that way. He felt like it was a privilege to help her though something like what she was experiencing. He had expected himself to be annoyed. But he felt nothing but a deep responsibility to hold her tight and tell her everything was going to be okay. As he laid there running his hands through her hair and over her back, he realized that he wouldn't want to be anywhere else but being right there; comforting her.


End file.
